


The Ballad of a Dove

by afterafternoons



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: BOM10DayChallenge, Canon Compliant, M/M, Original Character(s), Sad, chris is from the south, chris' sister's death, he's also the oldest elder at 22, ok so there's not actually mcpriceley in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:08:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23619532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterafternoons/pseuds/afterafternoons
Summary: “They couldn’t fix my phone,” Chris explains as he sidles up to the nurse’s station to show off his new phone, “so I had to buy a new one — the newest one.”“Chris.” A nurse interrupts, softly clicking off the charts on his iPad.“What happened?” Chris panics, his stomach dropping and immediately he’s twisting in the direction of his sister's room.
Relationships: Elder "Connor" McKinley/Kevin Price
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	The Ballad of a Dove

**Author's Note:**

> "Sunny days seem to hurt the most,  
> I wear the pain like a heavy coat,  
> I feel you everywhere I go,  
> I see your smile, I see your face,  
> I hear you laughing in the rain,  
> I still can't believe you're gone..."  
> \- Kenny Chesney | Who You'd Be Today

Hospitals have a notoriously screwy way of messing with time, but it’s not something you notice until you find yourself shut up in one of their pristine, white-walled rooms for days on end — watching the day staff fade into the night staff and inevitably, rounds always seem to happen when you’ve finally fallen into your best sleep. 

It’s a routine that, with enough time, you find yourself falling into; and for Lauren, it’s an end-of-life lifestyle. 

Hudson sweeps into Lauren’s room with a light courtesy knock at the door, and he makes a point of pushing the privacy curtain aside with an added bit of dramatic flourish. “Ah,” He remarks, nodding to Lauren’s younger brother, “the prodigal brother returns.” 

Chris’ chair is pulled up tight to Lauren’s bed, as it is most nights, nowadays, and he’s slumped precariously over a textbook. Lauren loves her brother, admires his dedication, and even appreciates his support but she cannot stand his snoring. “Yeah,” she sighs wistfully, just glad to have someone else’s company, “he’s studying hard can’t you tell?” 

“How’re you feeling?” Hudson snorts, jumping into his monotonous routine and Lauren would willingly attest that he’s her favorite hospice nurse; because he treats her most like a human, disregarding her fate in conversation to joke and tease her. 

“Tired.” She laments, “I like my gentlemen callers to visit earlier, don’t you know?”

Hudson raises his eyebrows with an amused smile. “I hate to break it to you...” He starts, before Lauren’s waving her hand to cut him off. 

“But you swing the other way.” She nods solemnly, watching him move about the room, “I know. You and Chris keep tiptoeing around your attraction for one another, but I will set y’all up — even if I have to die to do it.” 

Hudson shakes his head, with a disapproving laugh, and with a gloved hand he gestures to Chris as he’s made to work around him. “What’s he studying, anyway?” 

“Well if you must know,” Lauren grins, “Chris has graciously decided to push off his Mission for the past two and a half years in order to study Clinical Mental Health Counseling at Western Kentucky University.” 

Hudson raises his eyebrows with an impressed nod, and Lauren sighs, glancing back at her little brother. “This is really hard on him, it makes me feel so guilty.” She frowns, “I can tell it’s breaking him and I know the second I’m gone he’s going to snap.”

“It’s hard on everyone.” Hudson agrees, taking her hand in his with a gentle squeeze, “But you’re really brave to be the one holding everyone together.”

“My mom has this fallback plan.” She explains, shaking her head with somewhat of a bitter laugh, “You would think with me dying, our religion would be of more value and solace, but Chris is bending the rules and my parents are turning a blind eye. My mom wants to ship him off on Mission the second I’m gone, but I know he won’t be happy because he can’t be himself. She says she thinks it’ll lessen the pain, but I think she wants him to find Jesus again, or something... I just can’t help but thinking I’m his secret keeper and I’ll be gone and he’ll be alone.”

Hudson hums in acknowledgment, ““What if you wrote letters? ‘Open when you’re grieving...’ or ‘Open when you’re happy...’”

“Open when Mom tries to force a spiritual awakening on you...” Lauren laughs, and Hudson shakes his head with that same disapproving smile. 

Much like Chris, Lauren is a spitfire, the only difference is she’s accepted her diagnosis. 

“Exactly.” He concedes, pulling off his gloves, “Just like that.”

“Hudson?” Lauren calls after him as he takes his leave, “Just take him to the food court, or the coffee cart outside after your shift. Anything to get you two to stop the hopeless pining.”

Hudson bites back a small smirk, cocking his head to the side instead. “Doesn’t coffee go against your religion?” 

Lauren shakes her head as he leaves. 

It’s not like Chris is particularly invested in the rules anyways. 

* * *

Between his dedication to Lauren’s bedside and his college course-load, Chris Thomas is fairly certain there’s absolutely no hope in the foreseeable future for his sleep schedule, and so he’s forced to resort to taking a lot of naps. There’s a lot of pros to this approach, he usually wakes earlier, and gets to spend his mornings with Lauren when the weight of it all just feels a little less  — and they talk and laugh about everything, until one or both of their parents show up to usher Chris off to class. 

This morning, Chris has pulled the curtains back and Lauren’s invited him to sit on the foot of her bed. “Do you think you’ll have any kids?” She asks, aimlessly scrolling through her iPad as she glances up at him, “Is that something you want?” 

Chris is taken aback by the question, picking loosely at the pilling on her comforter. “I guess I never really put much thought into it.” He shrugs, “Do you think you’ll have kids?” 

Lauren swallows. She knows she won’t have kids, she won’t live that long, but Chris likes to dance around the subject. He likes to pretend that things aren’t nearing the end, and he’s tricky with his wording, in hopes he can get her to buy into his games, and she supposes she does to keep him happy. “Yeah.” She sighs, unable to meet her brother’s eyes, “A boy and a girl. Madelyn, but we’ll call her Maddie, and Ronen, but we’ll call him Ro; and Maddie will take ballet and they’ll both learn to ride the horses like we did when we were little. We’ll start them on ponies and work their way up and Ro will want to be Dad’s little stablehand.” 

Chris nods, “I could teach them how to show horses, and cut their hair for competitions.”

Lauren laughs so hard she snorts, and in playing along with Chris, she sometimes finds herself in his reality, “You are not cutting my kids hair. Have you seen what you’ve done to my wigs? Not a chance, bub.”

Chris rolls his eyes and they both turn to look as Hudson pulls back the curtain. “He’s awake.” Hudson muses to Lauren, gesturing to Chris and Chris finds himself looking back and forth between the two, eyebrows drawn in confusion. 

“He is.” Lauren nods, “And he ain’t had breakfast yet neither.” 

Hudson motions loosley out towards the nurses’ station as he holds the curtain, and he looks to Chris. “Would you want to grab a coffee and your choice of breakfast pastry?” 

“He would.” Lauren answers, nudging Chris off her bed. 

“Hudson,” Chris smiles modestly, “I should wait for my parents.”

“Were you kicked in the head by a horse?” Lauren hisses, “Christopher Nolan Thomas, do you really think you should wait for our religious parents to grant you permission to go on a date with a boy, go  _ now _ or I’m going on the date for you.” 

Chris stammers as Lauren shoos him out the door. “Go.” She insists, holding her iPad up to show him, “And I’ll make a Pinterest board for my wedding.” Stupid things like this, things for Chris to remember her by even if he doesn’t want to leave her side, are enough incentive to get him moving.

* * *

Hudson makes a show of holding the elevator for Chris and pretending like he can will the automatic doors to open on command and Chris laughs, breathing in the fresh air as they step out onto the sidewalk. Hudson is still wearing his scrubs and Chris, well, he’s looked better. 

“I know she said this is a date.” Hudson backtracks, forking over money to pay for Chris’ coffee and the apple fritter he’d finally decided on, “But it doesn’t have to be a date if that’s not what you’re looking for, or if that’s not what you want. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep this a secret, or that you’re doing the wrong thing.” 

Chris waves a hand to stop his rambling, “My parents know I’m bisexual. I think they think it’s maybe a phase, but I think they’re also just really happy that I still like girls too. I guess I just don’t really have the energy to care about what they think, so I’m fine if this is a date. You  _ did _ pay for my coffee.” 

Hudson smiles, pocketing his wallet. “Sorry that it’s not anything fancy, and that I didn’t dress up.”

“Are you kidding?” Chris chuckles, “I would have taken food court macaroni and cheese with my sister third wheeling, if it came to that.” 

“Well now I know for next time.” Hudson teases and Chris jokingly shoves his shoulder, rolling his eyes. “Hey, it’s not my fault you’re so easy to please.”

* * *

There’s a fire lit beneath Chris, and he’s reluctant to say Lauren’s put it there.

He loses his virginity to Hudson, inviting him back to the house when he  _ knows _ his parents are at the hospital, and they leave the Chinese takeout sitting untouched on the kitchen counter as Chris gives Hudson a tour of the family stables before his next shift. 

It starts innocently enough, admiring the horses before Chris is giving him a tour of his childhood bedroom. “I think my room has the best view in the whole house.” Chris muses, leaning against the window and Hudson scoffs quietly behind him.

“You have no idea.” He whispers and everything happens fairly quickly, with fervor and heat Chris had never felt before; but he’s aching to hold onto the joy and the pleasure being so intimately intertwined with Hudson brings, and the silver lining Hudosn’s strung up on all of his grey clouds.

* * *

Lauren knows, almost immediately, and she laughs maniacally, trying to pry details from her brother as he deflects. “At least bring me my makeup bag.” She concedes, pointing to the dresser, “Let’s cover up those hickeys.” 

“You should see the other guy.” Chris sighs, pushing himself from his chair to do as she’s asked and he sits patiently on the edge of her bed as Lauren dusts a brush over his neck. 

“What’re y’all up to?” Hudson asks, leading with a courtesy knock as he pulls back the curtain. Lauren gives him a knowing smile as Chris fails to come up with a good answer.

“Oh, just cleaning up your mess.” She teases, and Chris is quick to slide out from under her hand as he stands, his face flushed red. 

Hudson stammers and the two look at each other before Chris excuses himself to the bathroom so Hudson can do his job. He’s just finishing up when Chris returns and Lauren sits, waggling his phone at him from the bed, “What happened to your screen?”

Chris swallows and he and Hudson share a knowing look. “Someone got a little too excited.” Hudson offers, sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about it.” Chris shrugs, snatching his phone out of her hand. “I’ll get it fixed next week.”

* * *

Chris is sure he could spot Hudson a mile away, standing over an iPad at the nurse’s station, his maroon scrubs in stark contrast to the endless white walls of the hospital — and butterflies begin to well in Chris’ stomach, a nervous fluttering he hadn’t expected as a smile grows on his face and if his pace quickens, it’s only to meet Hudson before his work priorities whisk him elsewhere. 

“They couldn’t fix my phone,” Chris explains, a smile consuming his face as he sidles up to the nurse’s station to show off his new phone, “so I had to buy a new one — the newest one.”

“Chris.” Hudson interrupts, softly clicking off the charts on his iPad and Chris notices for the first time that his skin is a splotchy red. 

“What happened?” Chris panics, his stomach dropping and immediately he’s twisting in the direction of Lauren’s room.

“She asked for you.” Hudson says and his voice cracks as he rushes to keep Chris upright. Silent sobs rip through Chris’ throat and Hudson helps him find his footing long enough to reach Lauren’s room, his mother and father already processing their grief. 

“Oh, Christopher.” His mother sniffles, and she takes him into her arms to clean him up the best she can as Hudson edges out of the room. 

Chris cries for a long time, until the tears stop coming, and he never forgives himself.

* * *

Hudson and Chris have a lot of casual sex and Hudson doesn’t think it helps him any, but Chris says it’s the only thing that can make him feel something, and the only thing Hudson can do is hold him and tell him he’s not going anywhere. 

He sits with Chris when he opens the first of Lauren’s letters. 

There’s no feeling attached, and it’s almost fitting, because Chris keeps saying he just feels numb. The envelope just reads, “For when I’m gone…”

* * *

Christopher, 

You are my best friend. My little brother. The neverending thorn in my side. I have loved you dearly, and I will continue to do so and all I can ask of you, is that you look to feel my love even after I’ve left.

Please feel my love in these letters. Feel my love when you look back at old pictures and videos, even in the ones where I was not looking my best. Feel my love in the stables, when you brush the horses, or should you ever happen to find yourself at the ballet, feel my love there too. Feel my love in my favorite foods, and in the aster flowers we’d pull over to pick on the sides of the road, and in my favorite movies and my favorite songs. Feel my love at the bar I took you to on your 21st birthday, where we pinky-promised that we’d never tell mom and dad that we’d tried alcohol and feel my love when you pass the hotel where we’d rented a room that night, and we’d cried together on the floor, drunk, and hoping heavenly father would forgive us. Feel my love in the Church, should you return, and take comfort in what they have to say about my leaving. 

I have enjoyed every moment you have spent with me, even when I acted like I didn’t, even when I forced you out of the room because I was throwing up, or when I screamed at you because I couldn’t stop my hair from falling out. I’m sorry, by the way, for pushing you away in times like those. I was just trying to protect you. 

I want you to login to my Pinterest. I’ve left you more there, in various pins and boards. It’s everything I have, but I poured a lot of time and thought into it. I tried to do what you wanted me to do. I tried to pretend like this wasn’t the end. I cultivated a future there and I want you to have it. 

I love you Chris,

Lauren Nicole Thomas

* * *

Suitcase in tow, Chris’ head is still reeling with new information by the time he’s finally ushered into the dormitory style rooming the Missionary Training Center has provided him with for the next three weeks. 

Chris isn’t really an emotional person, having toughened up a considerable amount since his sister’s passing, but he hadn’t anticipated how hard it would hit him to physically say goodbye to his parents for the next two years of his life. He and Hudson’s breakup had gone smoother than this. 

Still processing this new loss, he’s whisked away for orientations and immunizations until finally he’s deposited in an unfamiliar room with unfamiliar faces. He doubts he’ll see anyone from Bowling Green, Kentucky all the way out here and the Mission Training Center can be daunting with it’s high rise ceilings and onslaught of new faces. 

He feels at a disadvantage because of the rolling arrival times and the fact that he was scheduled in with the end of the alphabet. It seems, most everyone else has had more time to unpack and greet one another and he knows that in time those couple extra minutes won’t matter — but in the short term they do. 

He’s not typically an anxious person. He can acclimate himself easily enough, and more than that, his ability to overcome is astounding — what really gets him, though, is his pessimism. He’s been warned time and time again that his attitude is in need of some serious readjusting if he hopes to go off and teach the lessons of Heavenly Father; but he must have faked it all pretty well to get him where he is now. 

“Do you want the top-bunk?” Someone asks behind him and Chris wheels around to face a tall red-head, all fair skin and freckles. 

“Only if you don’t.” He exhales, extending a hand, “Elder Thomas.”

“I know.” The red-head teases, pointing to his nametag before shaking his outstretched hand, “I can read. I’m Elder McKinley.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2 of the 10 Day BoM Challenge!  
> Kudos & Comments appreciated and I'll see you all tomorrow!!


End file.
